


some things are mint to be

by MichellesBoh (michellesbohh)



Series: look at all the things my true love gave to me (my true love) [4]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, GIMME ITTT, Identity Reveal, Pining, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, and they were ROOMMATES, give me all the holiday domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellesbohh/pseuds/MichellesBoh
Summary: Michelle Jones knows what she wants.And what she wants for Christmas this year? For a certain unreasonably ripped nerd across the hall to give her 2 seconds of the time of day.She and Peter have been living together for just over 2 years now and neither had given any inclination that they wanted to change that. They’d found the most perfect little 2 bedroom in a building older than both their parents and had fallen in love.With thebuilding,of course.Promptmas Day 11!
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: look at all the things my true love gave to me (my true love) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056125
Comments: 19
Kudos: 56
Collections: Spideychelle Secret Santa - 2k20, Twelve Days of Promptmas





	some things are mint to be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WyldeSpiderRaptor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyldeSpiderRaptor/gifts).



> Here is my contribution for Spideychelle Secret Santa 2K20! 
> 
> This was loosely adapted from a 3 sentence prompt my SS person actually sent me months and months ago that I just never filled bc I'm a fool. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, Scout!

Michelle Jones knows what she wants.

And what she wants for Christmas this year? For a certain unreasonably ripped nerd across the hall to give her 2 seconds of the time of day.

She and Peter have been living together for just over 2 years now and neither had given any inclination that they wanted to change that. They’d found the most perfect little 2 bedroom in a building older than both their parents and had fallen in love.

With the _building_ , of course.

MJ loved the exposed brick in their tiny living room, a feature she’s certain she’s never seen in any apartment this size and this cheap. Peter loved all the windows it provided, claiming the natural light and fresh air would be good for them.

And you know Michelle might’ve believed that if she hadn’t seen him crawling through the living room window on one of their first nights living there. They’d managed to get all the unpacking done, boxes broken down and awaiting pickup by one of their neighbors who’s moving out next month.

Peter had suggested they “christen the apartment” and the horror that colored his face as soon as the words were out was worth the momentary stoppage of her heart. Eye for an eye and all that.

He’d meant chinese food and a movie (which MJ had readily agreed to), and as they’d both settled into their tiny couch, knees brushing whenever one of them reached for a takeout container, she’d thought to herself that she could get used to this.

It was around 11:30 when she’d trudged off to bed and a little after 2 is when she’d found our Spidery friend sneaking in. She's never told him what she’d seen and has been dutifully keeping it that way ever since.

Peter just makes it so hard, being the terrible liar that he is, and MJ has to actively play dumb and pretend to forget details of Peter’s day that don’t match up to his stories.

Like when he casually tells her he’s just come from a “late dinner” with May even as MJ had already seen Peter’s aunt at the farmer’s market that day and she’d jokingly told her to have Peter visit more.

But, hey…that’s what friends are for, right?

Even still, it’s been a couple years and through all that time MJ’s feelings for Peter have grown intrusive enough that she now has to tamp down her smile whenever he pops his head into her doorway to say “good night” or the way she cherishes even the smallest moments like grocery shopping with him.

Especially when he smiles at her like she’s the sun and moon after he gets home from work and sees that she’s already ordered his favorites.

It’s hit or miss on those days and there’s plenty of times that MJ goes to bed leaving a note for Peter that there’s leftovers in the fridge for him, but on those days when she gets to see his reaction? The slow smile that spreads across his face? The way he regards her with impossible tenderness when he thanks her for thinking of him?

It all sets the butterflies in her stomach into overdrive and she knows he can see her blushing, can probably hear her heart pounding even if he’s kind enough not to comment on it. Kindness, she supposes, and the whole “ _exposing my super secret super powers”_ aspect of him acknowledging the way her heart practically bulldozes into her chest in its quest to be even a centimeter closer to him.

It would all be easier, she thinks, if he just stopped looking at her with those eyes, like _that._

She’s even resigned herself to the idea that Peter might actually find out about her feelings someday (that he might already know). Sometimes she lets her gaze linger on him a beat longer than she thinks is friendly, and sometimes Peter will tinge pink, but he never does anything.

She’d taken to leaving him messages on the mirror during the long showers he liked to inflate their water bill with. Michelle would wait until she heard him start in on his karaoke because that meant he was getting ready to get out soon and she could make her move.

The first time she’d tried it, his singing had faltered when she clicked open the door, but he’d carried on and emerged from the shower to a misty “Thanks for buying dinner” scrawled into the steam.

The smile it’d put on his face had stuck there all day and when he’d come home, MJ felt her stomach flutter at the thought that she’d been responsible for it.

Over time she'd continued to leave the little messages, always friendly or grateful except for once when she'd pushed the line a little and written, “Love your arms in that black shirt” after he’d asked her that morning what he should wear to his meeting.

Peter had stared at her a moment when he’d come out of the bathroom, a little smirk on his lips, but he still didn’t say anything. It wasn’t until she miscalculated and found herself with a face full of a soaking wet Peter as he unceremoniously ripped open the shower curtain, that she stopped leaving them.

She’d tried ( _tried_ ) not to let her eyes dip, but it was just _so_ out there and well...it was noticeable, so since then she’s been staying far away from Peter’s shower time.

_(Someday it will occur to her that, as Spider-man, there’s no way he didn’t know she was there, but that’s for another time.)_

“Hey, MJ! What do you think of this tree?” If she wasn’t still pretending not to know about his secret, she would scold him for bringing up a 6ft tree without help. The neighbors knew he was strong, but come on.

“I think that tree is bigger than both our bedrooms combined. Seriously, Peter. That thing is not gonna fit in here.”

He gets that same smirk and winks, “I bet I can make it fit…”

And dammit, he does. She’s sitting nestled into the best corner of the couch, her favorite hot cocoa in hand and dreamily getting lost in the twinkling of the lights on their very misshapen and yet still very perfect tree.

She sips at the cocoa with a soft smile as the memory of stringing up the lights and placing all the ornaments comes back to her.

After they’d moved in 2 years ago she’d immediately started reading up on what traditions go along with Hanukkah so she could make sure he’d felt just as at home as she did in their little apartment.

Hanukkah has passed already, even though their menorah remains perched on their best window sill, and MJ had been talking about getting a tree for only a few days before Peter showed up with this one.

She knows Peter doesn’t celebrate Christmas, not really, and when he’d brought home the tree just for her, she’d melted just a little.

When he’d also offered to help her decorate it, she maybe swooned, but she can’t confirm that shut up.

_“We don’t have enough lights.”_

_MJ has to snicker as she watches him winding them around and around without leaving any space between his rows._

_She thinks if he continues they’ll be blind by New Years with the amount of lights it’ll take to cover the whole tree like that._

_“Peter that’s not how you hang lights. You have to spread them out,” she teases, rearranging all the strands he’d just wrapped around so that they’re more evenly distributed._

_Their fingers brush as Peter reaches for the same string she does and when she turns to look at him, his eyes reflect the twinkling of lights and her breath catches._

_“Oh. Yeah that uh- definitely looks better,” he says looking down at his hands before continuing, “I like doing this with you.”_

_And okay. She’s fine. Everything is fine. Peter’s never done a real Christmas (May’s more of a tabletop store bought tree kind of vibe) and she convinces herself that he’d be saying the same things to anyone who’d made that happen for him._

_The way his eyes soften when she finally manages to glance at them has her stomach flipping. Michelle gives him a closed lipped smile and a little nod before she hides herself around the back of the tree to fix the lights there._

_She thinks if she keeps standing there next to him she might say something stupid like “I love you.”_ _No, a love confession would not be ideal. Not at all in the plans for her evening._ _She’s checked._ _Twice._

_MJ shuffles around, making her adjustments and when she’s satisfied, she emerges on the other side, taking a step back to take it all in._

_“It’s actually really nice to look at,” Peter tells her and she takes the chance to regain some of her usual bravado._

_“Aww, baby’s first Christmas…” she pouts and Peter shoves her with his elbow, almost knocking her over and then immediately reaching out to steady her with a hand at her waist._

_Well, MJ thinks, That...isn’t helping._

_When they go to add the finishing touch (the star on top, of course) she finds herself warming at the way Peter’s eyes trail along the strip of skin at her waist where her shirt has ridden up._

_Michelle clears her throat quietly when his eyes still haven’t left her as she steps down from her toes to admire their work, “There. It’s perfect.”_

_Peter snaps his gaze up to hers at the sound of her voice and his smile is a secret, like he’s in on something she isn’t. She returns it just the same tucking an errant curl behind her ear as he whispers, “Yeah, it is.”_

The sound of the front door opening startles her out of her reverie, and she turns to see Peter stepping inside, ruffling his hair to rid it of the few snowflakes that had gathered there.

“Hey, MJ! Did you know it was gonna snow today?” The excitement radiates from him like a glow and yeah, she did know, but he seems so excited to tell her that she pretends.

“I didn’t,” she tells him, leaning forward to glance at the window just behind the tree and sure enough she can see the flakes beginning to pile up on the sill. “But I love the snow, so it’s cool with me.”

It adds to the coziness she was already wrapped in and she grips the cocoa a little tighter as she nestles further into the couch. Peter grins at her then, slipping off his coat and boots before coming to sit on the couch with her.

Michelle notes that he sits closer to the middle than the other corner when he plops down, and she can feel his thigh pressing into the sole of her foot where she’s pulled her knees up in the blanket.

She so caught up in her own head about it that she doesn’t even notice his hands reaching for the edge of her blanket.

She imagines that this must be what cardiac arrest feels like.

“What are you doing?!” Michelle tries to stay calm, she really does but her question still comes out a little frantic and a little breathless especially since Peter seems content to ignore it completely and slide under the blanket with her anyway.

He tugs at her legs until they stretch across his lap, his thigh fit into the crook behind her knees and leans his head on the back of the couch to face her, pouting in a way that is completely unattractive ( _okay, MJ_ ), “S’cold.”

He moves his hands round the back of her legs, tickling behind her knee with his wind chilled fingers and she shrieks. Fully and embarrassingly shrieks.

“Peter! Stop! If I spill this cocoa on our couch, they will not find your body.”

His features shift in mock seriousness, “Oh, is that a promise or a threat? Should I go ahead and get my affairs in order?” he teases, but relents.

Michelle can’t help but notice that they’ve never been this close before and she is very quickly thinking she might not need this blanket with the way her body heats at the feel of his hands resting on her bare calves.

She hadn’t been expecting him home so soon or else she wouldn’t have chosen to wear such skimpy pajamas. Her shorts (a relic from a Secret Santa she’d done back in college) have little reindeer on them, but they are short, she usually only pulls them out to sleep or when she knows Peter will be out of the apartment.

MJ shivers, not entirely due to the iciness of his hands, and takes a cautious sip of her hot chocolate just to have something to do while Peter finds a position he’s comfortable in.

Soon they decide to put on a movie and they settle on some generic Hallmark channel monstrosity that they can mock together. Once she’s finished her drink, Michelle sinks into the arm of their sofa like she’s made of lead. The softness of the blanket combined with the feel of Peter’s (now warmed) hands idly caressing the skin of her legs has her humming out loud in contentment.

Peter glances away from the TV at the sound and she looks at him just in time to see him wet his lips and okay, that’s distracting enough that she almost doesn’t hear him speak.

“MJ…”

“Mmm?”

“This is nice, yeah?”

She sits up then, resting her head in her hand on the back of the sofa. With her legs already in his lap she’s even closer to him. There’s a moment where they just sit, silence booming between them save for the movie playing in the background.

MJ tugs her bottom lip between her teeth and Peter tightens his grip on her where his hands have graduated to resting on her knee, fingertips pressing into the base of her thigh.

The air between them is charged and Michelle considers that this might be the moment she’s been waiting for for the better part of 18 months. Peter seems perfectly content to have her in his space and so she decides to test the waters.

“Your hair is still wet,” she tells him, reaching out to tug playfully at one of his curls and spiraling it around her finger when he leans into the contact. She continues playing with his hair for the rest of the movie, twirling absentmindedly until Peter groans.

She stills her hand at that, but he slides forward until he can rest his head against her shoulder, “Feels good,” he whispers, and so she tangles her hand fully in his hair this time, scratching lightly and not daring to breathe as Peter’s hand slides slowly up her thigh.

When he hits the hem of her shorts, he stops, tilting his head up. His eyes are asking a question she’d only ever thought she’d hear in her dreams and so she gives him a very definitive answer.

The hand in his hair tugs lightly and it takes nothing for their lips to meet. Michelle slides forward, fully sat in Peter’s lap as their lips learn each other for the first time. It’s everything and nothing like she’s imagined it would be and she’s only just relaxing into it when Peter abruptly pulls back with wide eyes.

She matches his gaze, confused as he darts his free hand out for her abandoned hot chocolate mug.

Weird.

“Uh- I can make more if you want…” she offers, trying desperately not to let the icy burn of rejection show in the timbre of her voice.

Peter speaks as if he hasn’t heard her, “Is this _peppermint_ hot chocolate?” The words rush out of him and there’s a too red flush coloring his cheeks as he waits anxiously for her answer.

“Yeah?” she says, even more confused now that she sees his lips turning an almost crimson shade of red. She tries not to deflate too much when he removes her from his lap and starts pacing in front of their coffee table.

His hands are rubbing sporadically across his mouth and he catches her eye, answering the question she hasn’t asked, “Allergies...well, sort of. I guess it’s like an allergy, but I’m not sure I would call it-”

“Is this a ‘spider thing,’” she interjects, effectively stopping his rambling. His eyes light up then as he throws a hand out to the side.

“Yes! It is! That’s why I can’t- wait _huh?!_ MJ I-”

“Am Spider-Man,” she says with a slight shrug, blanket pooling around her hips. If she thought his eyes were wide before, they’re gonna pop out of his head at this point even though he quickly schools his expression into a more neutral stance.

_“Huh?”_

“That’s what you were gonna say- that you’re Spider-Man.”

“I am _not_ Spider-Man,” he tells her, shifting awkwardly under her skeptical stare. “What wou- what would make you think I’m Spider-Man?”

“I mean...it’s kind of obvious?” Honestly, it’s a wonder that he keeps this secret from anyone who is even 2% interested in the subject. When Peter just stares at her she elaborates, “I literally saw you climbing through the window after your fight with that Rhino dude was on the news.”

Peter nods then, seemingly accepting that his roommate now knows his deepest secret until something occurs to him, “MJ that fight was literally 2 years ago! You’ve known all this time?! And??- you!- How?!”

Michelle stands then, approaching him and reaching for him. His lips are still twitching like he’d be rubbing at them if not for her hold on his hands, “Hey. It’s just me. I’ve kept your secret this long so there’s no need to have an aneurysm.”

Peter seems to relax then, pulling her into his arms and resting his forehead against her collarbone with a deep sigh. He groans again and this time she feels it vibrating against her as she slides a hand back into his hair to bring him even closer.

_She’s an opportunist. Sue her._

_“_ Sorry about the peppermint,” she murmurs, lips brushing against his temple as they sway there in their living room. “Why _didn’t_ you just say you had an allergy?”

He nuzzles further into her neck then, sheepish when he mumbles, “I didn’t think of it?” Peter doesn’t need to look up to know that she is rolling her eyes at him.

Something occurs to him then, “I just ruined that, didn’t I?”

MJ snorts, wrapping her arms around his neck like her stomach is not on full butterfly mode at the feel of his hands flexing at the small of her back, his lips brushing against her skin. “Completely, but I expect nothing less from a dork of your caliber, so…”

Peter does look up at her then, a look in his eye that she’s never seen directed at her and has her heart racing, “Don’t worry,” he tells her, lips pressing against the column of her throat in a promise.

“I can still make it up to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Come find me on tumblr @michellesbohh!
> 
> Promptmas prompts from today that referenced:
> 
> Baby's first holiday season (lol)
> 
> "Your hands are freezing."
> 
> "It's snowing!"
> 
> Hot Chocolate


End file.
